Amelia Stories
by PenelopePotter28
Summary: Another Ross kid. Naturally, they needed more. This little girl is something special, though, and no one is quite sure what to make of her. Also, I suck at summaries. An out-of-order fic. T for safety because of the way Heather talks and not much else.


This story is about the adoption of my darling OC, Amelia (because of course Morgan and Christina are going to adopt another one). Also in this story is another OC named Heather, who is the cook of the house and fairly new. She doesn't replace Bertram, she just takes the cooking part of his job and he does (or is supposed to do- you know how he is) the rest.

Also, the stories of this fic are going to occur out-of-order, so I've included helpful timestamps at the top. This is because I write what comes to me, and sometimes the middle comes to me before the beginning.

**SEPTEMBER 1- 8:34 PM**

The elevator doors opened. Six sets of curious eyes peered in expectantly.

The blonde ex-model ran her fingers through her perfect hair, shook it out, and stepped into her penthouse. She was closely followed by her husband, who didn't so much as touch his own short brown hair. Coming after them, hiding behind the woman's legs, was a small girl. The girl, with her blonde single braid and pretty face, who everyone was waiting for.

The woman stepped aside and attempted to reveal the girl, who clung tightly to her new mother's pants and refused to show any more than another few inches of herself.

"Everyone, this is Amelia," the woman told the crowd of onlookers.

A young girl as blonde as the woman was first to break ranks and step forward. She was this woman's first and only biological child. The girl put her hands on her knees and bent down to meet the nine-year-old's height.

"Hi Amelia! I'm Emma, your older sister."

Amelia just stared, wide-eyed.

The next child stepped up. With his short-cropped brunette hair, he could easily pass as the father's biological son. But he was adopted, just like the rest.

"I'm Luke," he said casually. He raised a hand, in his mind to high-five her. She squealed and buried her face in the woman's leg. Luke backed off immediately.

A little girl with cocoa-brown skin and deep ebony hair done in dozens of braids stepped up next. She was dressed like a princess and had to, unlike the others, look up at Amelia.

"My name is Zuri," she said sweetly. Amelia didn't look up.

"I am Ravi," came a sweet accent from a young boy. He was just a little smaller than Luke, but looked incredibly different. He had a beautifully darkened skintone, the color of rich caramel, and a deep black bowl of hair. He wore an Indian _shirwani_.

"Well," the woman said, gently detatching Amelia's hands from her pants, "Morgan and I are gonna go upstairs and freshen up. You kids have fun." She tousled Amelia's hair halfheartedly before walking away, husband following. They ascended the stairs, leaving the terrified girl alone among a crowd of strangers.

A brunette in an apron, eyes widened by glasses, bent down to meet Amelia's eyes.

"I'm Heather," she said. "I'm the cook."

Amelia looked up to this new woman and spoke in a voice so quiet Heather wouldn't have been able to hear it. Unless, of course, she had had a friend who talked just as softly, which she did.

"Are you the woman who will watch me?"

Her Australian accent was barely there. It was like a little almost-unheard twinge on the words.

Heather shook her head and kept smiling.

"But Miss said that another woman will watch me," she whispered uncertainly.

Heather could see, even though her back was turned to them all, the others in the room leaning forward and cupping hands around their ears to hear the girl.

"I'm not your nanny," the brunette told her. "Jessie is."

"Hi," the redhead she spoke of said brightly, bending as Heather was. "I'm Jessie, I'm gonna be your nanny. I am so excited to meet you."

Maybe she was a little too bright. Amelia made a scared sort of noise and grabbed onto Heather's hand, as Heather was already standing upright again. Jessie stood too, and quietly said (but not as quiet as Amelia was), "Well."

"She's shy, poor girl," Heather said calmly. "This must all be a bit overwhelming for her." Heather started to move back to the kitchen, but was pulled back by a panicky, "Don't leave!" from the little girl still tugging on her hand.

By this time the other children were beginning to scatter in something like dissapointment.

"Jessie's here," Heather told the blonde girl. "Why don't you go with her?"

Jessie looked down at her sweetly and offered a hand to hold, but Amelia shook her head viciously, braid whipping back and forth, bug-eyed.

"Alright," Heather said. "But I have to go to the kitchen. You wanna come with me then?"

Amelia hesitated, then nodded slowly. Heather led her out of the room and through the large archway.

"Tell Morgan and Christina that dinner will be served on the terrace in-" she regarded her watch- "eight minutes."

Jessie stared.


End file.
